


goodbye, brown eyes

by ang3lba3



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Divergent, Feelings, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4700528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lba3/pseuds/ang3lba3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke stumbles into Fenris' mansion, drunk as hell. Love confessions are made, and things only go downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	goodbye, brown eyes

**Author's Note:**

> [Goodbye Lullaby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQQ9MNZQIeQ)

Later, speaking with Hawke again, Fenris wished he had a better excuse than ‘I am a coward’.

But he didn’t. There was no excuse, there was only regret in the face of what he’d done.

 

-

 

Hawke stumbled into Fenris’ mansion, vision swimming. It probably hadn’t been the wisest thing to get roaringly drunk with a slight concussion, but he’d never been too great at doing the wisest thing - as he was informed regularly via everyone he knew. He made his way up the stairs, nearly tripping twice and making as much noise as a clumsy Qunari. Fenris met him in the doorway, stepped back silently to let him through to sit down.

“My favorite elf!” Hawke slurred, plopping down on his usual crate. It always left the least splinters. He really needed to get around to giving Fenris some chairs - he’d thrown out the original ones when they were too gore splattered to use, and hadn’t gotten new ones even though it had been 3 years or so.

“Hawke.” Fenris nodded, his deep voice giving Hawke that delicious little shudder it always did. He leaned against the table, a little unsteady himself, an open and mostly empty bottle of wine Hawke had given him on the table. Hawke placed his own bottle of whiskey next to it, admiring the contrast between the rotgut and the fine alcohol that had cost him 16 gold.

“Hardest thing you’d ever done, huh?” Hawke said after a long moment.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“I heard you, speaking with Anders. He can be a rude son of a bitch when he wants to,” Hawke slumped in defeat, already having halfway given up. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

He looked up at Fenris imploringly. “You know, we don’t have to have sex. It’s not - it’s not that important to me.”

Fenris winced, face hardening. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I do.” Hawke insisted. “I do, and I need to. I can’t go on like this, feeling like there’s something I can do, anything.”

The elf closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out. “If I was with you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself.”

“Oh,” Hawke said. His face set into the determined lines only he or a small child could make look adorable. “Well, in that case, I’ll stop you. I’m well known for my self control, you know.”

Fenris laughed despite himself. “Quite the opposite, I think. It isn’t as if you can teach an old dogs new tricks.”

“That’s a myth,” Hawke said dismissively. “Why, just the other day I taught Snuggles to bark when he smells Anders so I know to pretend I’m reading his Manifesto.”

“That is a ridiculous use for a mabari.” Fenris said, shaking his head. He couldn’t quite hide his grin, however.

“It’s the best use!” Hawke said loudly. He reached for the whiskey, gulped some down and enjoyed the burn that went all the way down to his stomach, even as his eyes watered a little.

“Maker, what kind of poison is that?” Fenris asked, wrinkling his nose at the strong scent.

“The kind you get for a silver in Darktown,” Hawke replied. Fenris sighed heavily, took it from the table, and dumped it out the window.

“Your liver will thank me,” he said at Hawke’s half hearted protest. When he turned back around, Hawke was taking a sip out of his wine instead.

Fair enough.

It seemed that Hawke had forgotten he had come here, which was the usual direction of these conversations - Hawke would show up drunk off his mind, somehow persuade Fenris into cuddling him until he fell asleep, and would wake up in his own bed with no memory of the night before. Fenris was getting rather sick of dragging him across Hightown in the middle of the night, but if only because Hawke was approximately twice as broad as him.

Hawke stood up, stumbling a little and just narrowly avoiding faceplanting. Fenris had taken several quick steps to catch him, but that left him terribly close when Hawke straightened himself out. He looked at Fenris with those great big brown eyes, expression pleading as he reached a clumsy hand up to cup Fenris’ cheek.

“I just want to kiss you,” he said lowly. “Nothing more.”

Fenris made a soft noise he wasn’t entirely proud of, an anguished and wanting thing. It was strange to hear that out of his mouth again, something he hadn’t done in years. It would only make sense that the first time he made it without physical pain was when his heart ached so it was like he had his own hand inside his chest, squeezing harder with every frantic beat.

“I can’t,” he said, but he was leaning in, drawn by his own and Hawke’s desire. It was addictive, the love that shone through Hawke, a beacon matching the glow of his lyrium in intensity.

“Please,” Hawke whispered, and they were close enough now that Fenris could feel the ghost of his lips as they moved against his own. With a guttural noise, hating himself, Fenris fisted his hand in Hawke’s hair, kissed him hard and desperate.

Hawke slowed the kiss to a crawl, fighting him with every movement. Fenris didn’t want that - he needed it fast, needed it to hurt as much as he hurt inside. He needed it to remind himself of every reason why this was a terrible idea, even as he wanted Hawked inside him, filling him, that terrible ache that he’d tried so hard to ignore burning brighter and brighter.

Fenris broke off the kiss.

“Maker, I need you inside me,” he breathed.

Hawke groaned deep in his throat, finally gave Fenris the kind of kiss he wanted. It was over too soon, and he was pulling away.

“We can’t,” he said, gasping for breath. “I can’t take it again if you leave. Don’t ask me to do this love, please.”

“Fuck,” Fenris breathed, burying his face in Hawke’s shoulder.

“I won’t do anything with you,” Hawke promised fiercely. “I swear, Maker help me. Tell me you don’t want me, that you don’t love me, and I’ll go.”

“I do,” Fenris said hoarsely, still hiding his face. He thought it would be easier to refuse when he couldn’t see Hawke’s face. (It was still too difficult.) “I do but… you deserve better. I’m a coward, Hawke, unable to face my memories for fear of losing them. You deserve someone who can give you everything.”

“You can give me everything, everything that matters.” Hawke said. “Please I just - I just want to hold you. I want to wake up with you in my arms, I want to tell you I love you and court you properly.”

“You make me sound like a lady,” Fenris said, deflecting. Maker, he must be spending too much time with Hawke if he was making jokes to avoid talking about his feelings.

“Say yes,” Hawke said. “Or look me in the eyes and say no, but either way, give me an answer, for the love of Andraste.”

Fenris took a deep breath, steeling himself, but the scent of Hawke in his mouth did nothing to dissuade him. He pulled back, looking Hawke in the eyes.

“Yes,” Fenris said, then froze, mouth gaping with his own stupidity. That was not what he’d meant to say, not at all, but Hawke was leaning in to kiss his foolish open mouth, and he felt himself respond automatically.

After a few more gentle kisses, Hawke led them to bed, kicking off his boots and dropping his jacket on the floor beside them.

“If you’re not here when I wake up, I will track you down and kill you myself,” Hawke murmured sleepily, pinning Fenris down with an arm and a leg under the covers.

“I don’t doubt it,” Fenris said quietly.

“Good.”

When Hawke’s eyes closed and and his breathing settled into the deep sleep of those firmly in the Fade, Fenris allowed himself a few moments more to remember this. To remember everything about this moment, to etch it into himself as deep as the lyrium in his skin.

Then he slipped out of the bed, and into the night.

 

-

 

It was a long journey to Ferelden, and even longer when he had to cover his trail so meticulously. He knew it wouldn’t matter - Hawke would find him, would follow him to the ends of the world and even if he didn’t Fenris would be drawn back to him like a moth to the flame. He’d fly too close again, would burn up in the light.

But for now, he let himself wallow in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if anyone is out of character, this is my first time writing for them!! I've fallen completely in love with Fenris, and I have the heartbroken sobbing convos with my friends to prove it.
> 
> inspired by the background convo between Anders and Fenris where Fenris says that leaving was the hardest thing he'd ever done.
> 
> on tumblr at [this gorgeous blog ;)](ang3lba3.tumblr.com)


End file.
